


Consummate

by mrstater



Category: Chalion Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: F/M, First Time, Marriage, Nudity, Romance, Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wedded and bedded, Iselle reflects on how her new state has changed her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consummate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2011 April Flowers challenge at the Chalion-Ibra LJ community.

With a final kiss pressed to her lips, Bergon rolls away from Iselle. He lies on his back, naked and a little sweaty, still breathing as though he's just run a footrace--Iselle fancies she can see his pulse beating in his throat, matching the wild tempo of her own heartbeat--but grinning from ear to ear as if the victor.

And then, abruptly, his eyes drop shut and every muscle in his face goes slack, his breaths deepen and slow, and he snores lightly, fast asleep.

He doesn't stir a muscle as Iselle slips out of bed-- _their_ bed--pulling her earlier discarded silk dressing gown around herself, and tiptoes across the marble floor to her dressing room. Once she has tended to necessities and freshened up, deciding against putting on her nightgown before returning to bed, she dallies in front of her mirror, as if on close scrutiny of her reflection she might detect some fundamental change to her person due to the consummation of her marriage.

There is a red splotch on the hollow of her collarbone where Bergon's lips and tongue and even teeth lingered, nipping at her, tasting her, savoring her, but apart from that she looks the same as she always has; the flush that heated her skin during their intercourse is already fading, along with the tenderness in her secret place, for Bergon was an attentive and gentle lover, at least as nervous as she, if not more so, as he confessed to her that though he had no experience in lying with a lady, he so wanted to please her.

And please her he has done--perhaps not sexually, as he had meant, the act itself, though following a passionate lead-up, having been not exactly painful for her but rather uncomfortable, and finshed before she could acquaint herself with the sensations, both physical and emotional, of being so intimately _connected_ with another person, especially when that person is a man she hardly knows. Nevertheless, the experience was not what she had always feared--especially when betrothed to Dondo--and indeed was the opposite. Instead of disgust with her groom and relief to be done with her first time and dread of having to do it again, she finds herself thanking the Gods for blessing her with such a considerate husband, regretting only that the moment could not have gone on for longer, eager to learn the art of love with Bergon.

That's when she sees it, a subtle change about her eyes, a softness that has never been there before as she strove to prove herself saner than Ista, cleverer than Teidez, freer than Orico. Here, in this bedchamber, with Bergon, she is safe. She trusts.

Because she has met her equal, who mutually regards her as such. Not only is Bergon her ally, but he is her friend. She knew when he accepted her hand that she could love him, _would_ love him. That she _does_ love him, in so little time, with so little effort, comes upon her as a sweet and unexpected and most welcome surprise.

She smiles at herself in the mirror, then returns to her marriage bed to see if her new husband can see the change he wrought in her person--or rather, the change _they_ wrought, together, for not once did he make her feel as if she was meant to lie there and let him have his way with her; she was a willing participant in the act of making love _with_ him.

And to see what changes might be wrought with another try.


End file.
